The Guilty Memory
by Colin Creevey
Summary: Slughorn always felt guilty, always felt horrible at what damage he may have caused the day he gave young Tim Riddle the information he needed. But what made him muddle his own memory? One day, he decides to take Voldemort in his own hands. He decides that the only way to undo the mistake he made is to delete the mistake he made. Slughorn vs. Voldemort.


**The Guilty Memory**

**Chapter One-shot: Now I'll Destroy You**

_**A/N: I always imagined something happened between Slughorn and Riddle that made Slughorn realize his mistake. This is a meeting between a Dark Lord and his former teacher. Not tied to my Albus Potter series.**_

Horace Slughorn was not always a fool. Kindly, naïve, and not without a thirst for power but never a fool. In fact, it had to be the staff of Hogwarts in the 1940's who was fools. Kindly, naïve, and undeniably gullible. Foolish enough to fall for the charms, tricks and traps of one, Tom Marvolo Riddle. But Slughorn began suspecting, ever since he had the gull to ask about one subject Slughorn felt uncomfortable talking about. The making of a Horcrux. The very idea of its existence terrified Slughorn and no one, in the history of Hogwarts knew about Horcruxes without initial bad intentions. Slughorn was no fool.

"_Of course, this is all hypothetical, what we're discussing, isn't it? All academic…"_

"_Yes, sir, of course."_

Not a fool at all. Why did Slughorn ask the question in the first place? Why, because the very subject had bothered him and tested his loyalty to Dumbledore. Slughorn had not been fooled, for he had seen the fleeting moment of anticipation in Tom Riddle, the hunger for information as he pressed the question, as he made Slughorn regret even being lured into that fateful conversation.

Slughorn knew of course, and when words of Tom Riddle's deeds reached his ears, when Dumbledore made sure the staff of Hogwarts knew just why he turned down a job request from the famous and gifted Tom Riddle, Slughorn understood more. Was it wise to tell Dumbledore of the memory he possessed. Slughorn had entered into an internal dilemma. He debated with himself whether to tell Dumbledore what Riddle had asked before or to keep it silent. Both were unacceptable of course and neither to his benefit.

Dumbledore would hand him the sack. Riddle would find him. Make sure he never uttered a word. And had Riddle taught at Hogwarts, there was every possibility that he, the one rumored to have killed the Fletchers, would silence Slughorn. Something told him he had narrowly escaped that sort of revenge when Dumbledore refused to give Riddle the job. That was what kept Slughorn in the school for so long. That was what provoked him to use a Restricted Potion, Felix Felicus to assure himself that he would live. He could take no chances.

Deep into the summer after Riddle requested the job, Slughorn tracked Riddle down. It was not very difficult to do so. Dumbledore warned the staff that Voldemort may have been temporarily inhabiting Hogsmeade until his job application was finalized. Though he was turned down, Slughorn hoped he may still be there. Of course, Lord Voldemort did not inhabit a simple shack or a house. He resided in the mountains off Hogsmeade away from prying eyes. And that was where Slughorn found him.

"Horace," a cold voice said from the shadows.

Riddle was alone.

Slughorn did not step into the shadows nor did he step back. He remained stationary, staring at wide eyes, eyes looking very different than what he remembered. Dumbledore had described to Slughorn personally just what Tom Riddle had become. His face looked like it was an exhibit in a wax museum, his eyes wide and looking quite bloodshot. He regarded his old teacher with anticipation.

"I expected, Professor, you would eventually find me here," Riddle said expressionlessly.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Slughorn greeted, face also expressionless. "Of all circumstances to meet you once again, I did not expect to find you in the mountains."

"I will be leaving shortly," Riddle said as if it hardly mattered. "However, I ask that you no longer call me by my old name. These days… I am"

"Lord Voldemort," Slughorn bowed. "I am sorry, but I have always known you as Tom and always will."

"Nevertheless," Riddle waved aside, eyes fixating on Slughorn. "I have a request to ask of my former teacher, who as I recall offered Tom Riddle countless positions once he left Hogwarts school."

"A request," Slughorn repeated.

"You will hand this bottle of sherry to Professor Dumbledore," Riddle said, holding out a small bottle of liquid which Slughorn took into his hand. "I will do the rest and soon enough, you will be Headmaster. It will be then I shall reapply and continue my research."

Slughorn examined the bottle intently and, to Riddle's surprise, smashed its contents on the earthy floor. Ridde's eyes widened further, perhaps a tiny bit surprised that Slughorn had acted this way. Slughorn looked up, "I am not so much a fool to be taken by the Imperius Curse, Tom. Nor will flattery get you anywhere. I am afraid your… reign of terror will end before it has even begun."

Slughorn had never spoken in this manner before. Riddle knew this and so did Slughorn. The man, not as round as he would be in later life, was still blubbery. But this time, he was prepared. He withdrew his wand and in one swish, he conjured a two boxes and transfigured each one into birds. A quick bang conjured up a flock of birds to fly around the cave room they were in.

"Your Transfiguration skills are uncanny," Riddle commented. "A truly marvelous Headmaster you would make. One who did not feel so guilty as to… hand his pupils he information they sought, you possess an incredible amount of Defense Against the Dark Arts. However, you remain woefully ignorant of the very arts you seek to defend yourself from."

"I think you know why I have come, Tom," Slughorn said confidently, though anyone could tell behind the confident demeanor, he was shaking all over. "I have made a big mistake telling you what I knew of… _Horcruxes. _You have pushed the boundaries of magic further than they are _meant _to be pushed, at the cost of many innocents. It is time for me to right that wrong."

Riddle raised his eyes threateningly, flashing red in ferocity. Slughorn was not deterred though it did increase the tension in his muscles. "Is it now?"

"If I made the man," Slughorn said, pointing his wand at Riddle fearlessly, slowly getting into the moment, the tension relaxing slightly. "It is time, I believe to destroy the man. And it falls on me to do so. Yes," he said, as if trying to convince himself as well. "I made you. Now, I will destroy you."

No sooner had Slughorn uttered these words did Voldemort fire a jet of green light at him. Almost at the same time, Slughorn conjured up a box and transfigured it into a live bird that died upon impact.

"Evolved from Potions to Transfiguration, have you?" Voldemort hissed. "A useless gesture."

"Devolved into the mindset that looks down upon all other types of magic…"

"No magic is greater than the Dark Arts," Voldemort seethed.

"Then let this be the last lesson I teach you," Slughorn retorted. "As a teacher to his pupil. _Stupefy!"_

Voldemort summoned a Shield Charm to deflect the spell. It ricocheted off and came back at Slughorn. A quick twirl of his wand and his belly shot out, making the spell glance uselessly off his chest.

No sooner had it glanced off did Voldemort sent forth a jet of green light. A bird flew in to take the blast istead and Voldemort looked around. "The birds… were not just for show, were they my old Professor? _Avada Kedavra!"_

One bird flew out of the way from the Curse and a wave from Slughorn's wand sent them flying at Voldemort. They aimed their beaks at the Dark Lord but Voldemort laughed derisively, yelling _"Incicus!" _as he swished his wand in a vicious X movement. The birds' wings were cut off and they fell uselessly to the floor. He spun around and repelled a blast from Slughorn's wand, also sending a snake from his wand which proceeded to eat the birds that had been sent at him.

The snake turned on Slughorn next and a jet of green light burst out next. Perhaps it was Felix, but the Curse missed him by inches. He waved his wand and the snake turned on Voldemort next. As it struck, Slughorn sent his own jet of green light at Voldemort which he barely managed to avoid.

"So, you too are willing to kill?" Voldemort said testily as he vaporized the snake. "And descend into the Dark Arts to do so."

"The Ministry will overlook the murder of a killer," Slughorn said breathlessly. _"Crucio!"_

Voldemort raised his wand and cried, _"Crucio!"_

The spells collided but only one made it through. "You were never one for the Dark Arts, Horace." Finally down, Slughorn yelled in intense pain. Voldemort mercilessly loomed over him, watching as he screamed. "Answer me now, Horace. Let's see how much you really know of these Arts! Who is the Wizard who made the first Horcrux? _Who is it? _What magical beast did he create?_"_

Slughorn looked up through watery eyes through the pain but could not utter the name. In an instant then, Voldemort lifted the curse. Slughorn came to a realization. It was Voldemort. He had opened the Chamber of Secrets. And he had made a Horcrux to gain immortality. Slughorn breathed, "Herpo the Foul."

Voldemort let out a hissing noise, spitting into the darkness of the cave. Massive movement behind him alerted Slughorn to the presence of another one. He sent a powerful explosive blast. Voldemort conjured another shield but it was not aimed for him. The blast hit the ceiling just behind Voldemort and as the beast was about to show itself, it was crushed under the rocks. Slughorn turned tail and fled. He fled and unconventional way in his desperation. He leapt out and off the cliff into the village far below. As he made himself airborne, he transfigured himself into a ball which bounced safely on the pavement below. He burst out and ran, ran for dear life back to Hogwarts.

Slughorn took the first month off that year, of course. The duel changed him. He knew this was not over. Tom Riddle, Voldemort would grow to be a massively powerful Wizard. An unstoppable force of destruction. He hid himself in his office, brewing a Potion. A Potion of memory. He was not perfect at it but with Felix, it was his best attempt. As it brewed, he worked his own Memory Charms on himself, working to forget what he had just witnessed.

It was a poor attempt at forgetting the Horcrux conversation he had with Tom so many years ago. But, so long as it stayed with him, no one need ever know that he, Horace Slughorn, Leader and Founder of the Slug Club and Potions Master of Hogwarts was behind the making of Lord Voldemort. And though he managed to conceal his true memory, he was terrified of leaving the castle ever again. And when Voldemort fell in 1981, Slughorn finally felt a peace of mind and retired.

_Seventeen years later, May 1998_

"…Which is why you must hasten your abilities," he told McGonagall and Shacklebolt just before Voldemort entered the Great Hall with Hagrid carrying Harry's body. "He underestimates Transfiguration, Minerva, your greatest asset. He underestimates a great deal through his arrogance, he overestimates the Dark Arts. We are the best chosen to take him down! Fight him! Fight him to his last breath, to _our _last breath. _Go!"_


End file.
